Release Date: Mar 27, 2007
Genre(s): Rock, Alternative
Record label: Sony
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Somehow, the ”pop-punk” tag has attached itself to Maryland quintet Good Charlotte, sticking like leather pants to a syrup-encrusted chair. But let’s be real: They’ve been shedding their putative mosh-pit roots (which were never that deep, despite their tattoos and spiky-‘dos image) with each pristinely produced, hypercommercial release. Good Morning Revival, the band’s fourth effort, is the culmination of this tendency, which began in earnest with their decidedly more streamlined breakthrough CD, 2002’s The Young and the Hopeless.
Review Summary: Good Morning Revival is inconsistent; downright sinful at times, it contains sparks of brilliance and some very creditable pop moments. There’s not a lot of reasons an album’s lyrics wouldn’t be printed in its liner notes: there may not be any; it could be too expensive to print; maybe the lyrics are so insightful, so inventive, that mere paper could not contain their awesome power; or, um, maybe they’re not. If by now you haven’t figured out which camp Good Charlotte’s Good Morning Revival figures in, please leave.
When ironies are as delicious as punk-pop quartet Good Charlotte turning into the very thing they parodied on their career-making hit, "Lifestyles of the Rich and the Famous," it's hard to resist the temptation to repeat the story, no matter how often it's been said. After all, it is true. Good Charlotte succumbed to every temptation fame has to offer and turned into L.A.
More than a decade into their career, Good Charlotte have produced a fourth album of stunning fatuousness. The Maryland band began as grunge-lite punk-pop merchants in the mould of Green Day or Blink 182, but now favour a sleek angst-rock that would be rejected from the soundtrack of The OC for lack of emotional depth. The soft-focus self-pity of Misery and Broken Hearts Parade is heavily indebted to the solipsistic sentimentality of emo kingpins My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy, while the mawkish melodrama of All Black ("Take a look at my clothes, all black like Johnny Cash/ Like the Rolling Stones when they sang Paint it Black") is so preposterous that you long for Good Charlotte to be poking fun at themselves.
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